


come into the water

by ipomea



Series: almost nothing [3]
Category: Death Stranding (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, F/F, I don't know how to tag this one tbh, Loneliness, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, intimacy issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ipomea/pseuds/ipomea
Summary: Half a year after Sam's disappearance, Fragile rings in the new year alone. Until a perfect stranger decides to change that.(Alternatively: Fragile gets to be happy, 'cause I said so.)
Relationships: Fragile & Higgs Monaghan, Fragile (Death Stranding)/Original Female Character(s), Sam Porter Bridges & Fragile
Series: almost nothing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2049345
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	come into the water

**Author's Note:**

> Little project that was rolling around my head and wouldn't leave me alone 'til I wrote it. Also another offshoot/prelude to my currently ongoing Samhiggs fic (which I promise will be updated soon! I'm just writing about 5 things at the same time and not choosing to finish one ahead of others, ha). You can totally read this one without reading that one though.
> 
> Title taken from the song by Mitski.

Fragile sits alone in the corner of a bar that's too white and too sterile, tucked off in the fringes of South Knot. The merger with Bridges is going well—exceedingly so, garnering a larger paycheck and a more polished reputation. Even so, Fragile can't help throwing back more rum and coke than she can keep track of. Her mind moves too fast these days, and alcohol is the only thing that lends her respite and gets her to sleep at night. Tonight's different, though. Her mind isn't just fast; it's spiraling downwards quickly and leading her down a hole. Maybe it's because it's New Year's Eve, and she's all alone. Or perhaps it's because Sam Bridges is dead.

It shouldn't be possible. It defies all logic that the man who cannot die would turn up dead, but she'd seen corpse disposal take the body out to be burned with her own eyes. She'd seen the tears on Deadman's cheeks, and she's cried enough of her own. A large part of her is still imbued with guilt well into the sixth-month mark of his passing. She'd been the last person to see Sam alive, and maybe he'd be here if she'd made a more convincing pitch. Maybe.

But she can't keep blaming herself for everything. Not anymore.

"Are you waiting for someone? Or is this seat free?" a soft voice calls out through Fragile's thoughts.

Fragile's head flicks upwards to the source of the voice coming in over the pump of electronic music. A tan woman with thick-rimmed glasses and long black hair stands in front of her. She looks a bit older than Fragile, and she wears a bit more makeup, too. She's just Fragile's type. That is, she would be if Fragile was still in the game.

"All yours," Fragile says, curtailing with a smooth sip of rum and slicking her hair back with a gloved hand.

The woman slides over the empty booth seat opposite Fragile and sets her neon pink cocktail down on a coaster.

"My name's Lani," she says, extending her hand over the table for a handshake. "And I won't pretend I don't know who you are. I've heard all about you."

"That so?" Fragile forces a smile and grips the small, warm hand. "Good things, I hope."

"Of course. Things have been a lot better since we've had you here," Lani spreads her full lips into a smile and takes a sip of her cocktail, scrunching her expression into a grimace. "Sorry, I don't really drink that much. Can't stand the taste."

This could be dangerous. Fragile can make that much out in the flow of their short back-and-forth so far. This woman is so attractive it's almost unfair, with the way her deep brown eyes light up as she speaks and the silky hair framing a perfect face. 

"What are you doing here all alone on New Year's, hm?" Fragile asks, smooth and punctual. Just enough to let on interest without outing herself entirely.

"Date stood me up," Lani mutters, creasing her brow and massaging it with her thumb. "But I think you're more interesting than she could ever be."

There it is, the subtle nod that confirms mutual interest. Fragile raises her chin and looks at Lani with half-lidded eyes.

"Must be an idiot to stand up someone as pretty as you."

Lani tries to smother her creeping smile by pursing her lips and fails horribly.

"So tell me, what's it like working for Bridges?" she asks with blood pooling behind her cheeks.

Fragile drinks the last half of her rum and coke as she prepares to get into it. It all seems cursory and boring to Fragile now; orders come and go with minimal issue now that the Demens and the MULEs are gone. The chiral network has even brought in a semblance of environmental stability, and the occurrence of voidouts are at an all-time low. She starts with her childhood—how she'd known from the age of five that she wanted to help people just like her late father. Then, about taking over the company in her late twenties when his health started to deteriorate. She glosses over Higgs and dives straight into the start of her relationship with Bridges, offering up the small tidbits that aren't confidential. In other words—the lies. It goes stale after that because most of her work now involves signing paperwork, not saving the world. But Lani doesn't seem to mind; she sits across from Fragile attentively, asking the finite details about everything, right down to what the process of tagging packages is like.

When Lani returns from getting her next drink, she sits down beside Fragile, trying coyly to play it off as nothing as she takes a sip of her drink.

"Enough about me," Fragile says. "Tell me about yourself."

"Um, okay—well, I teach high school kids. I teach English, to be more precise," Lani mumbles like she's embarrassed. "And my parents came here from Hawai'i, just months before the Death Stranding, if you can believe that."

"You know, the UCA's starting a new project to look for life outside mainland America," Fragile winks. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"Oh, you've got to keep me updated on that," Lani says, putting her hands out on the table for effect. "My parents always made Hawai'i sound so beautiful that I'd cry my eyes out about never being able to see it up close."

"Who knows," Fragile smiles and shifts her thigh to brush against Lani's. "With the way things are going with the Chiral network, we might even get back to the moon one day."

The bar's patrons break through their conversation with a countdown from ten, and Lani starts leaning forward in the heat of the moment. Fragile just lets it happen because a kiss with a stranger on New Year's can't possibly count as a real one. They've already been talking with their faces so close together that their lips catch like magnets, and Fragile slides one gloved hand up to hold Lani's jaw in place. Her lips taste like pink lemonade and stick to Fragile's with red lipstick. It goes on longer than Fragile intends, getting lost in the first kiss she's had in years and the way this gorgeous woman sighs in delight under her. They're both slow to pull away, lingering there until it's absolutely time to break off.

"You're an amazing kisser," Lani mumbles, voice caught in her throat with bashfulness.

"Not so bad yourself," Fragile smirks as she brings her hand down to rest on Lani's waist.

The bar is in its death throes not long after midnight, with most people either gone or too drunk to dance. But the conversation between the two women rings on. Lani tells her all about each of her students, and she simpers with a melting kindness as she recounts anecdotes and stories of torrid teenage drama. Fragile listens with a vested interest, resting her chin atop her gloved hands and cracking jokes that don't quite land, but Lani laughs at anyway.

The last call comes around two, and Lani's face immediately sinks with disappointment in the middle of a sentence.

"It's been so long since I've held a conversation this long without the other person getting bored," she pushes her lips out and sighs.

"You're not boring at all. I'd listen to you all night if I could."

Fragile tucks her umbrella under her arm and leads the way out of the bar, with Lani following closely behind. She ducks into the alleyway and motions for Lani to follow, and she does, cautiously.

"Got one last party trick," Fragile says as she folds out her umbrella. "Something to remember me by."

Lani watches the umbrella float up in the air with wide eyes but keeps her mouth shut as Fragile wraps her gloved hands around her forearms.

"Close your eyes. Think of where you want to go. Think hard."

The spikes on Fragile's jacket flare up as the tip of her umbrella pinpoints the place in Lani's mind. In a flash, they're in the parking lot of a high rise apartment building. Lani stumbles backward like she sees stars before catching herself and turning back towards Fragile.

"Holy shit," Lani mumbles in awe. "That was…amazing."

Fragile shrugs nonchalantly as she folds her umbrella back up and starts walking towards the entrance.

"So, this is you?" 

"Yeah," the clack of heels stops beside Fragile, and a quick clear of the throat follows. "Do you want to come in for a drink?"

"Better not. Got work tomorrow," Fragile lies, the words feeling clunky and awkward in her mouth.

"Ah, that's too bad," Lani sighs in disappointment.

"I can give you a goodnight kiss, though."

"And your email address?"

"And my email address," Fragile concurs with a smile.

* * *

They're supposed to be taking it slow. At least that's what Fragile says to keep things from getting too real. Even though she drops by the school two or three times a week to take Lani out for lunch or dinner. It's selfish of her to play this out and keep this woman strung along when she doesn't want to get too close. She knows that, but when Lani laughs or affectionately calls her  _ Frage,  _ she can't bear to cut it short just yet. She wants to share her warmth for a little longer, even if it means it's going to hurt more when things come to an end.

"I could take you to your Beach," Fragile blurts out after an exceptional date.

It's late, and Fragile's just jumped them back to Lani's place. The parking lot is empty and silent, save for a few cars and trikes in their respective spots. The gleam of endless light from the sky above hits Lani's face just right, accentuating the surprise in her eyes at the proposition.

"Alright. I'm a little scared, though," Lani admits nervously, tucking a curl behind her ear.

"Nothing to be scared of. We won't get stuck there. It's just like jumping you home, only we won't pass straight through the Beach."

"Let's do it then." 

Fragile grips Lani's shoulders and presses their foreheads together, and in one flash, they're on the Beach. It's only hitting Fragile now how intimate seeing the depths of Lani's soul in its physical manifestation laid bare is. She has to force herself to open her eyes because it's too late to back out now, even if she's afraid of what she might find. When she'd taken Higgs to his Beach for the first time, it should have been a forewarning of what was to come. All the death, decay, and darkness was right there in front of her spelling out what was lurking at his core. She's afraid of seeing something similar here, in the arms of this woman she's growing so fond of.

When she finally opens her eyes, it's unlike anything she's ever seen before. The first thing she sees over Lani's shoulder is an endless lavender sky blotted with happy orange clouds that reflect deep into the sea. Beneath their feet is white sand. White, not black, like every other Beach Fragile has visited. It takes her a moment to realise that the hot air brushing her cheeks isn't coming from Lani but from the Beach itself. Lani's hands are still gripping her arms, and the warm sensation seeping through Fragile's jacket into her skin almost makes her want to cry. 

"So, this is where I'll go when I die?" Lani asks after an impossibly long time.

"That's right," Fragile responds, trying to control the shake of her voice.

"Maybe I should just kick the bucket now, then," Lani laughs. "Only kidding, of course."

Fragile smiles at her joke and reaches down reflexively to take her hand. There are no words between them as they walk along the warm shore of Lani's Beach. The ebb and flow of the tide and their fingers lacing together as they walk through the sand say more than words ever could.

"Can we swim here?" Lani asks, straying away from Fragile with the pull of her arm and towards the water.

"No, we can't. It's dangerous," Fragile lies again. She never feels any better about doing it.

"Oh," Lani yelps and steps back to crash into Fragile's side.

Instead of swimming, they sit in the warm sand and watch the deep purple water lap over the shore. Fragile has her arm wrapped around Lani's shoulders, and maybe that's a step too far, but she can't help her reflexive need to touch. To reach out and connect.

The goodnight kiss comes naturally without any foreword when they return. They're both leaning in at the same time, and it's near impossible to tell who plants the first kiss. It's probably Fragile, though. She wants this even more than she wants to hold back and keep herself safe. It's one of those magical time-bending kisses that feels like it goes on for hours, but when they pull away, it doesn't feel long enough. Lani's hands link up at the small of Fragile's back and keep her close in its wake.

"I think I really like you," Lani hums softly against Fragile's ear.

Fragile tenses in her embrace and tries to speak, but nothing comes out. She should've seen this coming. This was always going to happen if she let things get  _ real.  _ She can't take the possibility of losing someone again. Not after losing her father, her last girlfriend, Sam, or even  _ Higgs. _

"You don't want that. People who get close to me tend to get broken."

"What if I told you I don't care—that I want to be with you," Lani pleads, full of hurt. "Even if it means taking that risk?"

"I—I can't, okay? We can't," Fragile mutters, squirming her way out of Lani's arms.

"Why not? You like me too, don't you?" 

"I do. But I can't be with you the way you want me."

Fragile can't bear to see the look on Lani's face or the tears that start to build up in her beautiful brown eyes. So she unfolds her umbrella and disappears into the night.

* * *

Fragile's drinking again. It's too hard to sleep without the late-night phone conversations with Lani. Instead, she stands in front of the window wall in her apartment and takes in the city's flashing lights. Work's picking up, too, with more orders hitting South Knot than ever before. Fragile wishes she could find some joy in the fact that she's helping people, but there's nothing but bitter loneliness when she leaves work at the end of the day. Some days she makes the journey home on foot, just so she can take in the buzz of people for a little while longer.

It's half past midnight now, and she's not even bothering to dilute the gin with tonic anymore. Lani hasn't called in days, and though Fragile isn't going to pick up, she misses hearing that soft voice over the messages begging her for an explanation or any word at all. She wishes Sam was around to listen to her. He was always quiet in the face of her long monologues, but he'd stand up at the end and say something succinct yet perfect to set her in the right direction. But now, all she has is alcohol and bittersweet memories of days gone by.

The loud ring of the apartment buzzer nearly knocks the drink out of her hand. Her first instinct is to ignore it and wait for the visitor to leave on their own accord, but the ringing starts again just as soon as it stops. She loses her temper after a few minutes of the incessant electronic chime and rushes toward the terminal on the wall to give what's likely a drunken neighbour a piece of her mind.

"What the fuck do you want?!"

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me," Lani's voice comes in clearly, and Fragile has the urge to hang up, but she doesn't. She can't.

"How did you even find my apartment?" Fragile grumbles over the buzzer.

"I went out to the distro centre and asked." 

Apparently, Fragile needs to have a talk with Owen in the morning about privacy. But for now, she enters the code to let Lani in and throws her clothes on as quickly. She stops by the mirror, straightens her hair out like it matters, and then steels herself to open the door. Her glove fumbles and slips over the handle like some sort of omen, but it swings open on its own.

"Are you finally going to tell me what's going on?" Lani shouts as she bursts out through the doorway.

"You really want to know why?" Fragile mutters and closes the door behind her.

"Yes, that's all I want—closure," Lani crosses her arms and shakes her head. "If we can't be together, I want to know why."

Fragile reaches for the zip on her jacket and pulls it down in one fluid motion. She shimmies her jacket off her shoulders—slowly because maybe she'll find it in herself to stop if it takes longer. The jacket ends up on the floor despite herself, revealing her Timefall-aged arms to the cold air flowing in from the hallway. She takes it a step further, peeling off her undershirt to demonstrate that it's touched all of her skin. Her eyes pan up to look for the expression of disgust on Lani's face. But it isn't there—instead, all Fragile sees is warmth.

"Fragile," Lani brings her eyes back up to meet Fragile's. "You thought  _ this  _ would scare me off?"

"Guess I did."

Lani reaches out to touch, and Fragile lets her. Her whole body trembles with heat at that moment, when it's just the feeling of Lani's strong arms wrapped around her body, breathing and sniffling slightly around the embrace. They stay like that for quite a while, and it's clear how much they've both wanted it. Fragile pulls away first to look into Lani's eyes and confirm that this is all  _ real. _

"I would have fallen in love with you no matter what you look like—" Lani reaches up for her mouth as if trying to shove the admission back in. "I've gone and said it now, haven't I?"

"I love you, too."

Fragile moves Lani's hand away from her mouth and replaces it with the soft press of her lips, and it's slow, intense, and wonderful. Lani edges back just enough to get her hands under her shirt and bare herself to Fragile in kind. Fragile steps back just long enough to admire the curves of her figure before crashing back into her and kissing furiously. It's the first time Fragile lets herself kiss Lani the way she wants to, parting her lips to feel out Lani's tongue and the way she moves. A soft giggle reverberates against Fragile's lips as she glides her hands up Lani's spine and unhooks her bra, and lets it fall to the floor. Fragile trails kisses down the angle of Lani's jaw and down to her chest, stopping just short of the swell of her breast.

"Bedroom?" Fragile breathes roughly against Lani's collarbone.

Lani nods emphatically, and Fragile takes her by the hand and leads her down the dark expanse of the hallway into something new.

* * *

They're lying down in the afterglow of it all, sweaty and catching up on all the breaths they've lost in the throes of long-awaited passion. Fragile's running her fingers through Lani's thick hair and watching the vivid expression of bliss on her face as her fingertips graze the sensitive spot behind her ear.

"Hang on, I'll be right back," Lani whispers before getting up slowly and disappearing into the hallway.

Fragile rests her head on her palm and smirks as she watches Lani return a few minutes later, stark naked and gorgeous. Lani stands in front of the bed and clicks something small and cylindrical in her hand in quick succession. Fragile only realises what it is when Lani holds it up to her lips and sucks in sharply.

"You're a smoker?"

Lani sits back against the headboard and exhales a thick cloud of vapour up into the air.

"Mm. After sex mostly, which doesn't happen often. But maybe we can change that."

"Rather not contribute to your nicotine habit," Fragile laughs. "But the other thing, I'd be glad to oblige."

Fragile lays her head over the curve of Lani's thigh and spreads her palm over it as the smell of menthol starts to fill the room.

"Can I ask you something?" Lani speaks on the exhale.

"Sure."

"How'd you get caught up in Timefall?"

Fragile tries to obscure her soured expression in the planes of shadow falling over the bed. There's no getting around the question, and she can't lie anymore. She owes Lani that much.

"Tried to stop terrorists from transporting a nuke, but they caught me. They gave me a choice: run through Timefall and save the city, or jump and save myself. Worst part is the man behind it all was my friend once upon a time. Went by the name Higgs, he's the one who took out the other half of South Knot—I'm sure you've heard the stories."

"Yeah, I've heard of him. Sounds like a real piece of shit," Lani reaches down and takes her hand. "I'm sorry, Frage."

"Problem is, it's not as simple as him being an asshole or a villain," Fragile shakes her head. "Or anything like that. Wish it was. That way I'd know where to direct the leftover anger."

"What do you mean it's not that simple—he did it, didn't he?"

"He did, but he wasn't always like that. There's more to it, things I don't quite understand myself."

"Just tell me," Lani assures her, squeezing her hand a little tighter. "And I'll do my best to understand."

"Got into business with him years ago. Didn't take long for me to realise he was broken, and I couldn't help trying to fix him. We became good friends in the process, talking over codec all the time. Thought he was starting to come into his own because he was opening up to me more," Fragile stops for a heavy sigh before she continues. "Until one day he goes cold on me, and I don't hear from him for months. He even made me speak to him about business through a middleman. Then something happens, and like the fucking idiot I am—he's the first person I go see."

Lani offers her the electronic cigarette, and Fragile takes it without a second thought. She hasn't smoked in at least a decade and a half. The first and last time was when she'd taken it up to impress a girl who turned out to be straight anyway. But as the subtle hint of mint hits her lungs, it feels like just the kick she needs to continue the story.

"Voidout took my long-term partner out," she pauses and winces in remembrance. "Thought he might reconcile with me in tragedy. Give me the same kind of pep talk he did when my father died. But instead, I get nothing. He wouldn't even look at me."

Fragile still remembers that night in crystal clarity. The far-off look in Higgs' eyes—the only part of his face that was visible beyond the mask—is seared into her mind. It didn't matter how much she pleaded or sobbed in front of him, he wouldn't move until he slammed the door in her face.

"A few months later, he pulls his little stunt. Thought it was all him for years until I found out he was never the leader of the Demens in the first place."

"So, who was then?" Lani asks before taking a long, thoughtful drag.

"This all under wraps, but President Strand's daughter was the real leader of the Demens. In fact—Samantha Strand never even existed," Fragile grits her teeth and braces for the next part. "She's Bridget Strand's  _ ka, _ trapped on her Beach until she can bring about the end of the world. She wanted someone to free her from that duty sooner rather than later, so she picked Higgs up and pumped him full of bullshit until what little humanity left in him was gone. Until he thought all he wanted was extinction, too. As you can see, that didn't happen."

"That's, um—wow," is all Lani can muster in answer, and Fragile can't blame her. The blinking light of Lani's e-cig goes out after a few clicks, and she sets it down on the bedside table along with her glasses.

"I wanted to kill him for so long. But when I finally got him on the chopping block and saw the honesty in his face as he told me all of this, my grip on the rifle went slack," Fragile closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. "He's alive on his Beach, and he could come back because I couldn't bear to do it. It's stupid, isn't it? I should have done it."

"That's not stupid, Frage," Lani says, smiling broadly to show that she means it. "It's called having compassion. And you have so much of it—you help people every day. Even though what happened could have turned you into a heartless cynic, and you'd be no better than him."

"How do you always know what to say?" Fragile laughs weakly and wipes a tear out of her eye.

"I'm just fumbling in the dark and reaching out for the right places," Lani murmurs. "Just like that night at the bar."

Lani fumbles out in the darkness once more, sliding down into bed and pulling Fragile close to her breast. Fragile falls asleep soon after, content enough to be in Lani's arms as the pea to her pod.

* * *

Fragile wakes in the bright light of morning to the sound of her phone chiming. Lani's still sound asleep, the curve of her body pressed against Fragile's back. The room smells just as it did the night before, like soft touches and the floral scent of Lani's perfume. Fragile indulges in a few more minutes spent against the warmth of her skin and the gentle sound of her breathing before she reaches over for her phone.

The name at the top of her inbox reads 'Peter Englert.' Fragile scrunches her nose up, confused as to how someone she's never heard of has hold of her private mailing address. There's no subject line to denote the content of the email, either. Her first instinct is to regard it as spam, or a mistype, but she decides to check anyway.

_ I'm alright. The little one is too. _

That's all she needs to tell who it is. The brevity, the mention of the little one— _ Lou.  _ Tears well up in her eyes and a loud noise bubbles up in her throat and fizzles over that startles Lani awake.

"What's wrong?" Lani gasps and stumbles for her glasses on the bedside table.

Fragile stretches her arms out over Lani's neck and holds her there, smiling so wide it hurts her cheeks.

"Nothing. Nothing at all."


End file.
